


The Light Is Soft

by toyhto



Series: Staying Alive [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Drinking and Dancing, F/F, Post-Season/Series 04, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyhto/pseuds/toyhto
Summary: "This is just me asking you for a drink.”





	The Light Is Soft

**Author's Note:**

> This is a post season 4 -story that's slightly AU but mostly in Tommy's part, which isn't a big thing in this particular story. I just saw a gif-set about these two ladies and well. I ship it. I do.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://toyhto.tumblr.com)!

Jessie Eden walks to her through the room full of people and noise. She takes a deep breath. Yes. No. Yes. This is what she came here for. Or she might have told herself that she came partly for the speeches, but that’s wishful thinking. Somehow she’s become a cynic. But not enough, or so it seems.  
  
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Jessie says with a hint of crooked grin on her mouth.  
  
Ada shrugs. She’s probably bad at this. She hasn’t done this in years, or possibly ever. Freddie was always there. Also, Freddie doesn’t count. They were in love. They were everything. And Jessie Eden is… watching her with a suspicious look in her eyes, which is, all things considered, quite understandable. The last time Ada came to see her in a meeting like this, it was because she had an invitation from Tommy to give her. Now it’s quite the opposite.  
  
“Want to go somewhere for a drink?”  
  
“Again?” Jessie says with a slightly concerned voice. “What is it? Has Tommy done something –“  
  
“No,” Ada cuts in, “this isn’t about Tommy,” although it kind of is. Of course. Everything is about Tommy. But it’s just the way things are and she’s not fighting it anymore, well, not much. Maybe asking Jessie Eden for a drink just because _she_ wants to counts.  
  
“Fine,” Jessie says, still concerned, still eyeing her as if she’s something not to be trusted. Well, that’s true. Jessie’s clever. She gives Jessie her best smile and sees Jessie’s mouth inch as if trying to smile back.  
  
“Great,” she says, “can I pick a place?”  
  
“I think you should,” Jessie says, “it must be one of your places so that they’ll let two women have a drink without a man.”  
  
“Two women can do anything without a man,” she says and then bits her lip and tastes the lipstick. Well, that was kind of blunt. But now Jessie’s really watching her. “Let’s go to Garrison.”  
  
“Garrison.”  
  
“Yeah. If that’s alright.”  
  
“It’s full of your brother’s men.”  
  
“You think I’m trying to lure you into a trap?”  
  
“Possibly,” Jessie says but nods. “Let’s go. I have to wake up early tomorrow.”  
  
She doesn’t say anything to that. Jessie walks past her to the door and she follows her, the sound of her heels like a rhythm of a marching drum. What a stupid thought. But she listens to Jessie’s footsteps when they walk through the streets, and it’s cold but not too cold, and they walk close but not close enough, and she’s kind of nervous. It’s been years, or a lifetime.  
  
This morning, she spoke to Tommy about Jessie. _Don’t sleep with her,_ she said. _And why the hell not_ , Tommy said. The whole conversation would’ve been a lot more awkward if it hadn’t turned out that Tommy’s got a fucking _thing_ going on with Alfie Solomons.  
  
“What’re you thinking about?”  
  
“Tommy,” she says and bits her lip, but it’s too late. She sees how Jessie swallows. “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Has he,” Jessie says and glances at her, “has he said anything about me.”  
  
“No,” she says and sighs, “yeah. Kind of.”  
  
“What…”  
  
“Listen,” she says, “I know he can be lovely. And I don’t doubt that he could be… charming. In… certain situations. If he wanted to. And there’s a good chance that he kind of likes you. But he’s…”  
  
“What,” Jessie says, but it doesn’t sound like a question anymore.  
  
“Don’t trust him.”  
  
“I know that,” Jessie says. She looks disappointed.  
  
“Anyway,” Ada says, “I didn’t come here because of Tommy. I really didn’t. This is not me doing his job for him. This is just me asking you for a drink.”  
  
It’s getting really cold. They’re almost there. She knows these streets, she’s been here all of her life. The time in London barely counts. She still knows every corner in here. She tries to keep her steps steady even if her breath catches nervously in her throat. Who’d have thought that it’d feel like this.  
  
“Okay,” Jessie says.  
  
It’s very probable that Jessie doesn’t believe her, also it’d be wise because she’s not exactly telling her the truth, which is the kind of a truth you can’t just tell a person, or so she supposes. She wonders briefly how Tommy did it, with Alfie Solomons. But it does no good to wonder a thing like that. And she’s sure Tommy did something absolutely idiotic, like tried to shoot the man and then told him that he’d actually prefer fucking.  
  
“We’re here,” Jessie says.  
  
“Oh.” She goes in and Jessie’s steps follow her. Okay. Fine. They’re here. Everyone glances at them and then tries to hide it, and Harry’s already behind the counter. Good. She fixes her eyes on Harry and smiles.  
  
“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby.”  
  
“Thorne,” she says. “Harry, could you give me a glass of whiskey? And for Jessie, anything she wants.”  
  
Jessie takes whiskey as well. It’s odd. There’s no reason for Jessie to be nervous, because she doesn’t know why Ada brought her here, she probably still thinks that this has something to do with business. Tommy’s business. Which Ada’s trying not to think about. She goes through the door to the room where his brothers tend to keep their meetings, out of sight, and then waits for Jessie, and Jessie frowns but follows her anyway. “I thought we were just getting a drink.”  
  
“It’s not so noisy in here,” she says and sits down behind the table, just where Tommy usually sits. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe not. “But we can go back there if you want to.”  
  
“It just seems…”  
  
“Odd. Sorry. I know. I just… this is not a trick, Jessie.”  
  
“So what is it?” Jessie asks but sits down anyway. Ada takes a deep breath and opens her mouth but nothing comes out. Oh, bloody hell. Surely she can _talk._ But Jessie’s eyes are moving on her face as if she’s trying to read it in there, and she’s afraid that Jessie might. “I slept with your brother, you know.”  
  
“Yeah,” she says and blinks, “I know.”  
  
“So you really aren’t here to tell me what he wants of me.”  
  
“I’m trying -,” she says, “I’m trying to talk him out of wanting anything from you. Because it always ends badly. He doesn’t really… he’s a mess.”  
  
“I know that,” Jessie says with a hint of laugh. Just a hint, though.  
  
“But I’m really sorry if you’ve already, you know. If you love him.”  
  
“I’m just lonely,” Jessie says and then blinks as if she’s surprised as well. Then she pulls her shoulders back and fixes her eyes on Ada, and _oh_ that’s a good stare, and also a bit intimidating. “I know that your husband died of fever. Years ago. In London.”  
  
“I figured you’d know that.”  
  
“So you must know how it is. Being lonely, I mean. And I’m not going to say that I _need_ a man, I’m not going to say that. I’m just fine on my own, I don’t _need…_ Don’t look at me like that.”  
  
“Like what?” Ada says.  
  
Jessie blinks. “I don’t know. I thought… Don’t you ever just get lonely?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Good,” Jessie says and then frowns, “sorry, I don’t mean that it’s _good_ , I just mean… I suppose you’re that kind of a woman who doesn’t wait for a man to do things for her. And I just thought, it’d be nice if I wasn’t the only one who gets lonely sometimes. Even if I don’t _need_ –“  
  
“I get it,” she says. She really thinks she does. Maybe. But the expression on Jessie’s face, almost like they’re friends for a moment, makes her want to do something. Maybe lean over the table and touch her hand. But no, she can’t do that, not yet at least.  
  
“So,” Jessie says and runs her fingers through her hair, almost as if she’s just trying to put her hands somewhere, “I know what your brother’s like, I _know_ , it’s just sometimes I want…”  
  
“Someone.”  
  
Jessie nods. Ada shivers and then tries to wrap her coat tighter around her, but it’s not cold in here, not really. They shouldn’t be talking about Tommy, it’s messing with her head, the thought of Tommy holding Jessie and… everything else. She doesn’t want to think about Tommy now. She takes a sip of her whiskey and swallows it down, only it doesn’t really warm her up.  
  
“So, that’s why, when he asked me –“  
  
“Let’s not talk about Tommy,” she says and pulls her shoulders back. “You going to drink that?”  
  
Jessie glances at her whiskey and then at Ada again. “What?”  
  
“We have a house right behind the corner,” she says and keeps her voice steady, “we could just go there. It’s a bit cold in here.”  
  
“No, it’s not,” Jessie says. “ _Why?_ ”  
  
“Because -,” Ada says and pauses. _Bloody hell._ This is bad. She’s bad at this. She can’t ask Jessie because Jessie just said she wanted a man, she wanted _Tommy_ for fuck’s sake, and Ada can’t just… ask if it were alright if it was her instead. There’s just no way things like that can be said. It’s not that it’s bloody illegal, she’s not going to start worrying about the law _now,_ it’s just that whatever she wants to say won’t come out of her mouth. There aren’t any words. _Come with me. Come with me and kiss me. Lay with me in my bed._  
  
“Because,” Jessie says slowly. The silence’s ringing in Ada’s ears.  
  
“Yeah. Because.” Fuck this. She’s Ada fucking Shelby. She _is._ Surely she can _say_ things, even if they’re somewhat unsayable. “Because I’m lonely too.” Jessie just stares at her. “I _am._ And it doesn’t have to… Did you ever wonder why the heck we’re always looking for a man?”  
  
There’s a clock on the wall, ticking loudly. She hears her own breaths inside her head.  
  
“Yeah,” Jessie says after another silence’s gone too long, “I wondered. But, like, when we marry them, they tell us what to do. We rule things at the house and say that it’s enough but it isn’t. That’s what I wondered.”  
  
“But I could hold you,” Ada says and then swallows but it’s already there. It’s lingering in the air or possibly falling onto the table in between them. The silence is loud and heavy, and Jessie’s watching her with her mouth ajar.  
  
“Like a man would.”  
  
“No,” she says, “not like a man. But don’t you think…” She breathes in. Jessie’s waiting. Surely at this point they both know what this is about. “Don’t you think it’d be just as good?”  
  
“Maybe,” Jessie says, without a silence in between, almost as if she already had the answer. “But I wouldn’t know. I haven’t tried.”  
  
“Me neither.”  
  
“So, you’re saying,” Jessie says and puts the glass of whiskey aside on the table, “the house is right behind the corner.”  
  
“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”  
  
“Your family going to be there?”  
  
“No,” Ada says, “I think not. Maybe. But I have a flat upstairs. A bedroom. I could lock the door.”  
  
“You could lock the door.”  
  
“If we wanted to, you know. Dance.”  
  
“I danced with Tommy,” Jessie says, and Ada flinches.  
  
“Don’t talk about Tommy. Please.”  
  
“Sorry,” Jessie says, her voice oddly soft. “Okay, we could dance. I like dancing. You have a gramophone?”  
  
“Yeah. If none of them has stolen it yet.”  
  
Jessie laughs shortly and then licks her upper lip. Ada tries not to stare. She really does, only it doesn’t go too well.  
  
“I’d kiss you too,” she says and Jessie freezes.  
  
“What?”  
  
“If you wanted to.”  
  
“I don’t -,” Jessie says and takes a sharp breath, “I don’t _know._ I never… I just kind of didn’t… I didn’t think anyone would ask. Could we just…”  
  
“What?” she asks, quietly, she’s not going to ruin this _now._  
  
“Could we just go?” Jessie says. “To your house? And… see what happens?”  
  
She nods. Jessie smiles at her, slowly, _slowly_ but it’s happening, oh _bloody hell._ Something in her feels quite soft. Maybe it’s because of the whiskey.  
  
She smiles back at Jessie.  
  
Probably not the whiskey.  
  
  
**  
  
  
She takes Jessie upstairs. The house is empty, thank God, so no one asks her why she’s bringing one of Tommy’s girls to her room, alone, or why her breaths catch on her throat. And - - bloody hell, Jessie’s not one of Tommy’s girls anymore. Never really was. Ada’s got to stop thinking about Tommy. This is not about Tommy, for bloody once in her life this is about her.  
  
But all in all, it’s surprisingly easy. She opens the door to her room and Jessie walks in, looks around, stops in the middle of the room and turns to her, staring at her almost as if asking _what now._  
  
“We could listen to music,” she says, “or talk.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jessie says and then smiles, “music. I don’t think I could talk right now.”  
  
“You don’t?” Ada says. The gramophone is a bit dusty but it works.  
  
“I’m kind of nervous.”  
  
“Me too,” she says and then glances at Jessie, who’s biting her teeth to her lower lip now, almost smiling but not quite. “I’m nervous too.”  
  
“Good,” Jessie says and then nods towards the gramophone. “We can’t really dance though.”  
  
“Is it too fast? Too slow? I think I have some other records somewhere –“  
  
“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant….” Jessie takes a deep breath. “Fuck it. Let’s dance. But who’s the –“  
  
“Man,” Ada says and walks to Jessie, only a few steps, and her scent is there. Perfume and whiskey. And something else. Birmingham, probably. “Neither of us. We’re just fine on our own.”  
  
“Yeah?” Jessie says with a slow grin.  
  
“Yeah,” Ada says and touches Jessie’s arms, just lightly but she flinches anyway. But not in a bad way, she thinks. She pulls Jessie closer and Jessie comes, steps in between Ada’s arms and rests her own hands on Ada’s waist.  
  
“Like this?”  
  
“Yeah,” she says in a voice that’s not completely steady, “I think so. Yeah. If you want to.”  
  
Jessie just watches her.  
  
“Anything you want to.”  
  
“That’s a lot,” Jessie says.  
  
Oh, Ada thinks but doesn’t say aloud mainly because they start moving now. She’s not sure who goes first. Maybe it’s just something, like, waves climbing up the rocks in the sea-side, the whistle of a factory blowing and people walking home, something that just happens. Just like that. Even if it seems that they don’t really know where to move, Jessie and she, but she doesn’t mind, as long as Jessie keeps her palms on her waist, her fingers feeling Ada’s ribs through the layers of fabric, careful as if Jessie was holding her breath. Maybe she is. Maybe Ada is as well. Maybe she doesn’t quite believe this is happening. The light is soft, Jessie’s smile is growing softer now, and then Ada places her other hand on Jessie’s neck, just where the fabric ends and warm skin begins. She feels Jessie inhale, but that’s all, Jessie doesn’t pull away, only her hands on Ada’s waist move a little, find new places for her fingertips. They keep dancing.  
  
When the gramophone gets stuck and the music breaks, Ada almost stumbles. She ends up her cheek pressed lightly against Jessie’s neck. It’s good. It’s good enough that she stays there for a second, and Jessie has a hand on her hair now, fingers running through the curls she carefully made earlier in the evening. Maybe she could kiss Jessie’s cheek now, or her ear, or her neck. Maybe Jessie wouldn’t even notice. But the record’s still stuck, the trumpet goes on and on and on and never stops, and Jessie places a hand on her face. It’s so light she almost doesn’t realise that’s Jessie’s slowly turning her face to meet hers.  
  
“What?” she says.  
  
“If you wanted to,” Jessie says, “you know, kiss me, I think now would be a good time.”  
  
“Now?” Ada says. Her heart feels heavy. “But the music –“  
  
“Come on,” Jessie says and smiles. “Fuck the music. Just kiss me.”  
  
She blinks, and then Jessie leans closer and kisses her on the mouth, so lightly that she barely feels it. And then firmer. And then firmer still, hands in her hair, smiling against her mouth, with lips wet and warm and tasting like lipstick and cigarette.  
  
“We should stop the music,” Jessie says in some point of it, her voice out of breath but still smug. Ada presses her fingers on the sides of her face and kisses the smug smile, only it widens. “Shouldn’t we?”  
  
“And what then,” Ada says.  
  
“I don’t know,” Jessie says, “I have absolutely no idea. But we could find out.”  
  
She kisses Jessie once more and then walks to the gramophone and raises the needle.  
  
  
**  
  
  
In the morning, there’re people downstairs and she has Jessie Eden sleeping in her bed. _Fuck it_ , she thinks and kisses the mess that’s Jessie’s hair, and Jessie stirs and smiles, her eyes still closed. Ada smokes a cigarette and finds her lipstick in the pocket of her coat. Fuck it, she’s Ada Shelby and if she’s somewhat in love with Jessie Eden, that’s her business and no one else’s. She’s going to hold Jessie’s hand and they’re going to walk the stairs and kiss at the bloody doorway if they want to. Or maybe not at the doorway. But almost. One day.  
  
“What’re you thinking about?” Jessie asks, her voice soft from sleeping.  
  
“Nothing,” she says and looks through the window. “Maybe we could do something later.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Jessie says.

**Author's Note:**

> The conversation Ada and Tommy have and Ada thinks about in this story happens in my Tommy/Alfie story Staying Alive, chapter 2, Still Staying Alive. So, feel free to check it out for Ada fucking Shelby who tells Tommy to leave her girl be.


End file.
